


all in the game of love

by trustingno1



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bittersweet, Interviews, M/M, OT5 Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2693585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustingno1/pseuds/trustingno1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh," Harry says, because he <i>knows</i> this, and Louis cocks his head, expectantly. "The first meal you made. Chicken wrapped in parma ham. Home-made mash." His throat is tight, but his voice is steady.</p><p>"How'd you get that from-" Niall copies Louis' hands, and Harry shrugs (remembers hooking a chin over Louis' shoulder as he poked tentatively at the chicken; remembers his hand covering Louis' as he showed him how to stir the gravy right).</p><p>"Because we've heard it a <i>thousand</i> times," Liam replies.</p><p>(A re-imagining of SugarScape's FourPlay/Articulate game).</p>
            </blockquote>





	all in the game of love

**Author's Note:**

> A mish-mash of interview games the boys have done lately; SugarScape's [FourPlay](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOoMYCPiFgo) and [Yes/No](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VM0xW1zx8Qg) and [A Quickie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NgmqsL4xQhk) on Australian radio, with a H/L twist.

  
  
"Have you ever played the game 'Articulate'?" the SugarScape interviewer - Lizzie - asks.  
  
"No," Louis says, from the far end of the couch, and Zayn shakes his head slightly.  
  
"Bad start," she deadpans, and Harry grins at her. "Well, this is like a One Direction of 'Articulate'," she explains, "We've called it 'FourPlay'."  
  
"Whoa," Niall says, and Louis recoils, mock-scandalized.  
  
"I expected better from SugarScape," Liam says, like he's truly disappointed in them, as Lizzie passes the box over to Harry.  
  
"You take turns picking them out, and you have to describe it without saying the words on the-"  
  
"I'll go first?" Harry checks.  
  
" _Go_ ," Liam insists.  
  
"Has the clock started?" Harry asks.  
  
" _Yes_ ," Liam replies.  
  
"Ahh, me lads," Harry says, in an admittedly terrible Irish accent. And look - he's never pretended accents were his thing  
  
(except an American valley girl. He does that _awesomely_ ).  
  
"Leprechaun," Liam says, immediately.  
  
" _Leprechaun_?" Louis echoes. "What does _that_ have to do with-"  
  
"Niall," Zayn interrupts.  
  
"That wasn't me," Niall protests. "That was terrible."  
  
"Well," Liam says, "It is _Harry_."  
  
"Oi," Harry says, mock-wounded.  
  
"Excuse _me_ , Liam," Louis says, reproachfully, at the same time, and Harry glances over at him, but Louis' looking at his lap. And that's - that's _fine_.  
  
"Go, go," Liam urges him, with an unnecessarily vicious elbow to the side.  
  
"Where's Zayn?" Harry says, pulling another piece of paper out, pretending to look for him.  
  
"Not dancing," Liam says, "Boot camp stage. Brian Friedman. Britney Spears."  
  
"Calm down," Louis says, "We don't get extra points for that. Do we?" he directs the question at Lizzie, who shakes her head. "No. So just _calm down_ a bit."  
  
"Somebody else go," Harry says, shoving the box down the couch. He rubs at his side, and frowns at Liam, who throws an apologetic arm around his shoulder.  
  
"I will! Uhhh, uhhh," Louis says, scanning the piece of paper in his hand, and Niall cracks up.  
  
"I love how serious you are about this," he says, affectionately, under his breath.  
  
"No time!" Louis snaps, and Niall laughs again, as Louis tosses the paper aside and shoves out his hands, one up, one down, palms facing each other and before anyone else can react -  
  
"Oh," Harry says, because he _knows_ this, and Louis cocks his head, expectantly. "The first meal you made. Chicken wrapped in parma ham. Home-made mash." His throat is tight, but his voice is steady.  
  
"How'd you get that from-" Niall copies Louis' hands, and Harry shrugs (remembers hooking a chin over Louis' shoulder as he poked tentatively at the chicken; remembers his hand covering Louis' as he showed him how to stir the gravy right).  
  
"Because we've heard it a _thousand_ times," Liam replies.  
  
"Fuck off, Liam," Louis says, pleasantly, and Niall snorts in laughter, as Louis grabs the next one. "It's - curly," Louis says, and he glances up and meets Harry's gaze for a moment, before looking back down at the paper in his hand. "Just. Curly and-" he shrugs.  
  
"Harry's hair," Zayn says, after a long beat, and Louis nods.  
  
Liam runs his hand through Harry's hair. "You should've said 'Something that needs a cut'," he teases, and Harry snorts.  
  
"I think it's fine. You know. As it is," Louis says, a little stiffly, rooting around in the box for the next one. He pauses, re-reads it and, "Uh," he says, crumpling it up, "Pass."  
  
"You can't _pass_ ," Zayn says, reaching over Niall and grabbing the paper scrap.  
  
"Taylor?" Niall reads, over his shoulder, and, well. Fair enough.  
  
Niall touches his chin, discretely, stroking an invisible beard, like he could just be thinking, and Zayn ducks his head and laughs, and it's been long enough that Harry's mouth turns down a bit as he tries not to laugh, too  
  
(it's not funny, but it is; it's been almost _two years_ , and Louis - Louis, who knew exactly what she was and why she was there - still can't even stand to hear her _name_ , and even if he didn't once know Louis better than he knew anyone in the world, he'd know Louis was jealous (and jealous of _nothing_ )).  
  
"Something Liam doesn't like," Louis says.  
  
"You," Liam mutters.  
  
"Spoons," Zayn says, with a comforting pat to Liam's thigh.  
  
"Bring it back down this end," Liam says. He grabs the next one. "Oh. Louis said he liked ... something. And I think he regretted saying it, because - "  
  
"Girls," Niall coughs, ducking his head, and Zayn's shaking with silent laughter.  
  
"Like ... early on?" Harry asks. "Back on _X-Factor_?"  
  
"I can't work like this," Louis says, waving a hand at Niall and Zayn. "They're slowing us down."  
  
"Carrots," Harry perseveres (remembers a lighter, louder Louis; easy smiles and easier kisses, skinny arms always tugging Harry closer). "Girls who eat carrots."  
  
"Yes!" Liam says, grabbing the next one. He frowns at it, then shoves it at Harry. "Quick, help."  
  
And - oh. Of course Liam doesn't know; he wasn't _there_. "Two Door Cinema Club," Harry says, slowly. "Um. Tents. Silent disco-"  
  
"Leeds," Louis says, quietly, eyes in his lap again (messy drunk kisses in the dark, dried mud flakes in his hair, two of Louis' fingers tucked between the inside of Harry's wrist and his wristband). "Our trip to Leeds."  
  
"It's a - it's a thing," Liam continues, and, bless him, he's _genuinely_ trying to keep this on track, "That Louis' good at, but Harry's not."  
  
Zayn rests his chin in his hand and covers his mouth. "Pretending to be straight," he mumbles, low and far away enough from his mic that it won't be picked up clearly, and Niall, forearm resting on Zayn's shoulder, explodes in laughter beside him.  
  
"What was that?" Louis asks, leaning forward a bit.  
  
"A sport," Liam adds, still trying to save the segment (and they've - _Louis'_ \- corrupted him quite a bit, but push comes to shove, he's still the most sensible of them all.  
  
Which. Isn't saying much, really).  
  
"Football," Harry says, with a bit of a smile - then, "Heyyyy." _Uncalled for._  
  
"Me now," Louis says, leaning across Niall. "Something Nialler doesn't like," Louis prompts, after thinking for a moment.  
  
"Wearing pants," Liam says, giving him a wholly unimpressed look.  
  
"Small spaces," Zayn guesses.  
  
"Pigeons," Liam tries, again.  
  
"Dick," Harry mumbles (and yeah, it's not the smartest thing he's ever said, but he's pretty sure Zayn officially sank this interview about thirty seconds ago); they all hear him, and Niall cracks up.  
  
"Something Niall doesn't want for himself," Louis tries to clarify, but his voice breaks, mid-sentence, as he tries not to laugh.  
  
"I still say dick," Harry mutters, and Liam buries his face in his hands.  
  
"Tatts," Zayn says, and even he has to cover his smile with his hand.  
  
"Good work," Louis declares. "Your turn, Zayn."  
  
Zayn slowly unfolds the next piece of paper. "Uh, it's an interview we did."  
  
"Excellent. This should be easy to narrow down," Louis deadpans, and Harry smiles at his hands.  
  
"And there was a question? About who-" Zayn breaks off and shakes his head. He glances over at Louis. "About who takes the front and -"  
  
And there's a beat, a beat where they're all trying to place it, and Harry's chest _aches_ (Louis' eyes dancing as they joked about it, silly and giggly and obvious and _happy_ ) and Louis' not looking at him when he says, swiftly, "Mario Kart interview. Next."  
  
"Last one," Zayn says, handing the empty box to Niall. "It's ... uh. A name the fans gave - some of us."  
  
Niall squints at him in confusion, but this is _SugarScape_ and it's not _hard_ -  
  
Louis sits back in the sofa (he won't answer, Harry knows), and Liam glances at him for a moment, then, "Oh. Right. Ziam," he kids, gently, resting his head on Zayn's shoulder, and Zayn scrunches up the bit of paper.  
  
"Close enough," he says, resting his cheek against the top of Liam's head for a moment.  
  
"Well done," Lizzie says, reaching for a pile of ping-pong paddles.  
  
"I think you gave us too long," Liam admits, as Harry leans forward to take the paddles. He hands the rest down the couch and flips his over a few times.  
  
"So," Lizzie says, "Yes/No game. All know how to play?"  
  
Zayn laughs, and Harry glances up in time to see Niall holding up No.  
  
"Four questions, to continue the theme. One. Do your own grocery shopping?" she asks, and everyone - even Louis - holds up Yes (and he probably does, these days).  
  
"Two. Big spoon when you cuddle?"  
  
Niall laughs at the question, and they're all holding up Yes again, and, slowly, Harry raises No.  
  
"You're the little spoon?" Lizzie asks him, trying not to smile, and Harry shrugs (he used to be, when he was sixteen and smaller, Louis' nose at the back of his neck, his toes tucked under Harry's calf).            
  
"Three. Ever seen another band member naked?"  
  
"Unfortunately," Zayn mutters, as they all hold up their Yes side.  
                                                             
"Last question. Ever been in love?"  
  
He hesitates, spinning his paddle a few times as he thinks. He glances down the line - Liam, Yes; Zayn, Yes; Niall - interestingly - Yes; Louis - Louis still hesitating, too.  
  
True or not, he knows what the safest answer is, knows what answer he's _meant_ to give. Harry holds up No, and Liam makes a noise of surprise beside him, and Louis finally holds up No, too. He looks over at Harry, gives him an apologetic half-smile, a bit of a shrug, and Harry smiles back, just slightly (can't pretend that it doesn't ache, just a bit, because he's loved Lou since he was sixteen, wide-eyed, gentle touches and smiles so big they almost _hurt_ and he's never had the time and space he'd need to _stop_ loving Louis (and really, all the time and space in the world wouldn't be enough). He loves Louis with an intensity everyone thought he'd outgrow, with a devotion that's never wavered, and it's _bullshit_ to pretend that it never happened, never mattered).  
  
"OK," Lizzie says, and as they're all lowering their paddles, just before she says, "Thanks, guys," gaze unbroken and with a simultaneous wrist twist that surprises a bigger, slightly wistful smile out of him, he and Louis flip their paddles around to hold up - just for a moment, but that's all he needs - _Yes_.  
  
  
  
  
  
 **end**  
  
  



End file.
